[Lynch Talking]
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Yeh, yeh..
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Back at that ass once again
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Had to do it, bitch niggaz in the town
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Ya know what I'm sayin'
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I'ma tell 'em what I know
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Know what I know
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[Brotha Lynch Hung]
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Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job
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I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot
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I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des
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Your raps need that Midas touch while mines rhymes
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It's suicide fuckin' wit me, believe it
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I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some niggaz tried to get me
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Split me in half like a joint bitch, I had it crackin'
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Slugs went flyin' through ya window, nigga I'm the captain
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You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5
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Might have to get that truckin' and get locked
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Nigga you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes
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I'm a tornado, you just a puddle
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A poodle talkin' shit 'bout to get one put in ya noodle
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Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me
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My chap I'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat
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And it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya Regal wid the do dirty
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Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me
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Every bitch I got I got the key to the spot
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Better hide yo bitch before I get the key to your spot
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Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock
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Put one right in ya head ya whole cake
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You ain't even gon' play my shit rock up just like cocaine
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You a no name I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame
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[Tall Cann]
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Same old shit but a different day
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Back at these niggaz like boomerangs
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Nigga wanna come around and do my thang
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Bangin' these niggaz for the dead issues
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Call the paramedics to get you
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Not fuckin' wid me in this lifetime
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Not thinkin' in my right mind
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Like Mike Tyson when it's my time
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Got these niggaz hollerin' woof
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Baby you ain't hard as hundred proof
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My fellow you just a nigga that won't fit in a puddle
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Piece a shit, nut ridin' get your ass outta hidin'
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Dip on 21st street ridin' there won't be a survivor
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Yo ass ain't no McGuyver you done say the wrong thangs
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The method that I got to give 'em bustin' out some teeth to say the less
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You can save the rest for later
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I mean I'm way to major like E-major nigga
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You claimin' my game but you ain't nothin' but a hater
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So when I pull out my tool scram
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Ya riddled drain eggs and ham you in the fryin' pan
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The way I reach out and snap a nigga like a rubber band
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Oh no there goes another man tryna fuck wid the Siccmade fam
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Uh, Uh again?, God damn
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[CO]
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These niggaz talk alot of shit but don't really know about C-O
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That sneaky motherfucka hit ya ass like ya P-O
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When ya least expect it with the cold Smith and Wesson
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Have my bitch, set you up at the telly get you undressin'
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Then it's lights camera action my pistol's blastin'
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Ya night went from cashin' to missin' fractions
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But shit do happen, so ya shoulda been ready
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Instead of doin' all that yappin' shoulda copped you somethin' heavy
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We deadly, like rattlesnake bites y'all the taddlin' type
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Deal wit my pain and probably rattle ya life
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So instead of worryin' about ours you need to see
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What's the matter wit ya life?
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What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get it right?
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What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get a life?
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Then spark it up this hitter does so ya can't get no ice
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So now ya wanna hold a grudge wid, niggaz like us
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Beause we move shit like drugs where y'all stayin' and cus
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And talk about the same shit all day
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And us we on the next page and after that the next page
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So try again the next day if you can't fade us today
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Practice makes perfect lil' guy stay in ya place
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[Brotha Lynch]
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I'm a Southside rider, funk provider
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Leave you in the trunk tied up, punk ya lied to us
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Just to tryna glock wid us get a piece of the pie wid us
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We too O-G, I don't fuck wid them mics cuz
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I'm diggy down it will take plots to get me now
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And I got the fifty thou, wanna bet ya not get me pow
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I'm the threat starter fire starter put a hole in ya Starter
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And you couldn't find me cause it's time for departure
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Tryna get ya CD's out, I know it start ya
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Blame it on me I got heat, I leave ya scortched up
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I'm on the |